


It Takes Two

by Ultirex



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Kind of? Only for issue 1, M/M, lost light spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultirex/pseuds/Ultirex
Summary: Because we all know they weren't actually checking the coordinates.





	It Takes Two

“Hold still.”

“Again?” Rodimus raised a brow - whether as a spontaneous reaction or a simple act of defiance, Drift wasn’t sure, but regardless of intent it managed to threaten the delicate balance of the canvas of his face. “C’mon, Drift. I’m a man of many talents, but doing nothing isn’t exactly one of them.”

“I’m aware, hot shot,” Drift said, and the various pulsating lights surrounding them managed to catch the playful glint in his optic. “But I just want to get a good look at you.”

“Oh?” Rodimus grinned in that way of his that always managed to be infectious. “Like what you see?”

Drift chuckled. “Did you invite me here just so I could compliment you?”

“No, but since you brought it up, y’know, you’re more than welcome to.” 

Drift savored the sound of Rodimus’ own laughter and how it seemed to reverberate around them before he took a moment to appraise his work. The shade of blue now coating Rodimus’ chevron, though eye-catching in its own right, didn’t quite capture the same vibe as the brilliant yellow Rodimus had previously sported. Every glimpse of it further etched the phrase intent to kill in Drift’s mind, but he tucked those thoughts away and resisted the slight downward tug of his lips; owing to the immense gravity of Rodimus’ proposal. 

Rodimus’ spoiler gave a tentative flutter after a prolonged moment of silence. “So? Does it get the Drift seal of approval?”

“Hm. Let me just...” With that cryptic preamble, Drift leaned in until his face was hovering right above one of the spots he’d previously painted. He noted the way Rodimus’ spoiler flared at the sudden proximity; though the nature of the transporter didn’t afford them much space in the first place. Drift gently blew on the drying paint, grateful for the fact that his internal temperature was running higher than normal. He cast one last scrutinizing glance over his handiwork before gently running a digit over it. “There. Now you’re all set.”

“Thanks,” Rodimus murmured. His optics remained on Drift’s - looking entranced, almost - and his lips were parted slightly. The heat of Drift’s breath still lingered on his plating; a warm reminder that he’d miss once it began to dissipate. “...For everything. All of this, I mean.” He gestured at his newly-painted frame, which Drift had meticulously doted upon with a brush.

“No problem,” Drift said as he rested back on his heels. His hands were splayed on his thighs, and his knees brushed against Rodimus’ in the confines of the transporter. “But, Rodimus-”

As if anticipating an incoming lecture, a sudden heat simmered in Rodimus’ optics that only further fueled Drift’s concern. “Here it comes...”

“Hey,” Drift cupped Rodimus’ cheek with his hand and directed the young Prime to maintain eye contact, “let me say my piece. Then you can decide whether or not you want to listen to it.”

Rodimus ex-vented, seemingly in resignation. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I said I’d work on that, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Drift affirmed, but his expression softened at the look of earnest in Rodimus’ own. “And I’ll hold you to it. But it- us, I mean. We’re still a work in progress. So don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Right,” Rodimus said with a nod. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“Thank you.” Drift paused, taking a moment to reflect upon the unwavering conviction in Rodimus’ tone. Rodimus waited expectantly, but with a mind clearly set in its ways. “I just want you to be absolutely sure of this path before you go down it. Spectralism can be a great source of guidance, and if you take a moment to consider things with an open mind, you might find that it offers a course of action that suits you better than your intended one.”

“I’ve made up my mind,” Rodimus asserted, and Drift knew then that encouraging him to adopt a different interpretation that Spectralism offered would be a losing battle. “And I don’t want to discuss that any more. Not here. I didn’t bring you here for that. No offense, but it’s kind of a downer.”

It took a few moments for Drift to finally concede with a sigh. “Ok. So why _did_ you convince me to meet you here in the...’den.’”

“Do I need a reason?”

“I guess not, but it’s still an interesting choice of location.”

“Well, it’s cozy,” Rodimus said, considering the way their knees still touched, “and quiet. Private. Don’t have to deal with any of that out there.”

Drift regarded him at first with a look of uncertainty, but then grinned in a way that effectively alleviated the tension Rodimus was carrying in his spinal strut. “I’ve been back for a day and you’re already trying to woo me.”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“No, but it’s nice to see that that hasn’t changed.”

“Who would I be without the Rodimus Charm? Which I know you can’t resist, so...” Rodimus lay down on his side, presenting his back to Drift. His spoiler quivered slightly as he tilted his head and said, “Join me? Just for a little while.”

No further invitation or entreaty was necessary. Drift lay down alongside Rodimus, wrapping his arms around Rodimus and cradling him against his own frame. 

When Rodimus finally broke the silence, his voice was little more than a whisper, and Drift couldn’t help but be taken aback by how odd the very notion was. 

“What are you thinking about?” Rodimus asked. He placed a hand atop the one resting over his spark, his digits interlacing with Drift’s. 

Drift vented a sigh, and the warmth dispersed along the intricate cabling of Rodimus’ intake, sending a jolt of charge along the young Prime’s spinal strut. “What makes you ask?”

“Your spark,” Rodimus replied. His optics shuttered as Drift shifted, pressing Rodimus closer to his chassis. “Right up against my spoiler. Feels like it’s going a mile a minute.” 

“Must be one of your many talents,” Drift said, and Rodimus could practically hear the smile underlying the teasing lilt in Drift’s voice. “Being close to you just has that effect on me.”

“And here I was worried that you’d learned to resist my allure while you’ve been gone,” Rodimus quipped. His voice remained a murmur as he listened to the faint whirring of Drift’s spark beneath the sound of their gentle ventilations. “Missed me that much, did you?”

Drift gave his hand a firm squeeze. “More than you know,” he said without missing a beat. 

Rodimus’ breath hitched. He readjusted and turned his helm, bringing himself face-to-face with Drift once more. He studied the curvature of Drift’s lips, the new markings adorning his face that only seemed to accentuate the striking blue of his optics. 

“Me too,” Rodimus said. “Missed you, I mean. I should’ve gone looking for you, Drift. You have every right to hate me.”

“Hey,” Drift said. “I don’t hate you, Rodimus. I was angry, and hurt. But don’t you dare tell yourself that I hate you. Despite everything, you’re still my best friend.”

Rodimus didn’t argue any further, but his doubt was still evident in the way he couldn’t quite meet Drift’s gaze. “We’ll work things out between us, won’t we?” he asked, shifting so he was once more facing the wall of the teleporter but still nestled in Drift’s embrace.

“We will,” Drift assured him as he nuzzled Rodimus’ intake. “This is a first step.”

Rodimus managed a half-smile. “Spooning?”

“Mhm. Feels nice.” Drift allowed his optics to close and simply listened to the way Rodimus’ spark would stutter every now and then. “Feels like home.” 

“Home,” Rodimus repeated. “Yeah. I like the sound of that.”


End file.
